Doing a dinner party tonight at someone else's (morning Mark and Esther) house because they have a little baby (morning Oliver, hope you enjoyed me sending you to sleep - get used to it).
The prophetess Esther, who annoyingly keeps saying things that I didn't know I felt until I heard her say them (will explain later) because I'm rubbish at feelings, reckons I could make catering another part-time job.
I agree. Every now and again I'd like to do a dinner party for six in someone else's house for money. Couldn't begin to imagine what it would be like to cook for a living every day of your life. And I expect I'd need to get insurance in case I did a Tottenham on somebody.
Oh the deep joy of explaining to Liz that last night's tea was Tescos 2 for 1 stoneground cheese feast pizza because I was spending my cooking time planning tomorrow. And she undestood. It was helped by being sunny enough to eat the pizza in the garden, in the company of a rather tame sparrow.